


Stalker

by DaughterofHypnos17



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstood, Onesided Love, Stalker, sad beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 08:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15481512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterofHypnos17/pseuds/DaughterofHypnos17
Summary: Nico has been stalking a mysterious Green-eyed, Black haired boy who's a regular at a cafe, a misunderstanding occurs when Annabeth interferes, will the story end in tears of regret or joy.





	Stalker

Nico’s P.O.V  
“Oh come on Nico,” Annabeth begged, “you’e been stalking him for ages now.”  
I look at her with a glare on my features, “It’s been three months and it wasn’t stalking,” my voice faltering.   
“If it isn’t stalking, then what is it?” she counters.   
“I call it secretly gathering information and admiring from a distance,” a proud smile on my face.   
She looks into my eyes, a proud smirk resting on her lips, “No need to stalk him anymore, I’m going to talk to him for you.”  
A shocked, surprised and terrified look graces my features, “You can’t!”  
“I can so,” she defends.  
“You’ll just embarrass me.”  
“Whatever,” the blonde gently kisses my cheek before walking out of the shop, “he will be all over you in a week, guarenteed.”  
…  
Annabeths giggles were beginning to get extremely annoying, and the fact that she was staring at her phone began to worry me.   
“What are you laughing at?”  
“I’m just texting Percy,” she says, nonchalantly.   
Confusion overshadows my brain, “Who’s Percy,” I ask.   
She looks down at her phone once again, “The boy you’ve been stalking.”  
The look on my face should ave been photographed, it was priceless. The look of pure adoration and nervousness was a deadly combination.   
“Whats he like,” I all but squeak, attempting to be inconspicuous.   
She looks at me with a playful gleam in her grey eyes, “He’s funny and sweet, and caring; he can just make anyone laugh, I bet he could even make you laugh Mr. Gloom and doom.”  
I chuckle slightly at the nickname she gave me on the first occasion we met.   
“He sounds great,” I smile, thinking about the raven haired boys smiling face, “Did you put in a good word for, or even find out his sexuality?”  
“Yup don’t worry,” what worried me was that it was an automatic response, hiding almost no excitement at all.   
“So you’ve talked to him a lot?” I ask, the nerves only growing.  
“all the time, we’re even hanging out on Friday,” still typing ever so swiftly on her cell.   
“You’re hanging out with him!” I murmur, a tug of dread pulling my heartstrings.   
“You’re ok with that right?” She questions, as though my crush isn’t obvious, “I’ll scope him out for ya.”  
My eyes fall, “uh sure, have fun.”  
…  
A click sounds, as my apartment door closes. Keys drop on the marble countertop, and light footsteps. A dip in the couch tells me my blonde best friend is home.   
She rubs my back, “Nico, I’m Home.”  
Before sitting up, I wipe my hands across my cheeks, making sure any trace of dried tears are dispersed; hoping that red puffiness of my eyes are gone with the nap I had cried myself into.   
“How was it,” my voice small and groggy.   
“We kissed, it was magical, a midnight walk in the park and a kiss goodnight,” she looked so happy, too happy to notice my distaste.   
“Thats nice,” the bitterness in voice becoming audible.   
“Oh don’t be such a grump, just be happy for me.”  
“Be happy for you, how can I be happy for you when this entire texting plan had been for me to go out with him! ME!, That should’ve been my romantic midnight walk; my kiss, MY FIRST kiss,” I scream, exasperated, “He was supposed to be mine Annabeth, I fell in love with him.”  
She looks into my eyes, staring me down with an intense gaze, “You can’t love some one you don’t know,” she expresses, laces of hatred in her voice, it hurt, although my own voice was pure jealousy.   
“I do know him though, I watched, learnt his quirks and tells,” I grin, thinking of the way his left eyes squints just a little when he smiles.   
“Too late now,” she flips her blonde curls over her shoulder, “we’re going out again tomorrow.”  
That night I slept at my parents house, my whole family cuddled around me while I hugged my childhood stuffed toy and cried myself to sleep, thinking what if I had talked to him first.   
…  
The next morning I went to my usual coffee place, further known as the first place I laid eyes on the green-eyed boy, who later inadvertently broke my heart without knowing. That type of rejection is the worst.   
Taking small sips o the burning liquid while simultaneously working on a college essay left little concentration towards the rest of the world. I didn’t even manage to hear the screech of a chair on tile flooring.   
“You’re Nico, Right?” More of a question than a statement.   
“Yes, I answer gruffly before looking up into the eye I’ve fallen in love with from a distance.   
The black haired boy extends. Hand, “I’m Percy.”  
“Nico,” a deep flush spans my cheeks.   
“I’d like to take you out for a coffee sometime, you like a French vanilla latte,” the confidence in his voice wavers slightly.  
“Um,” I cough to try and remove the lump in my throat, “Ya, how did you know.”  
“I’ve kinda been stalking you for months, and when your blonde friend started chatting with me I thought I had a small chance, but then she kissed me and I got really lost on the situation.”  
“Oh,” realization of what he had just said settles into my brain, “You like me!”  
“I, um, “he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, “I sorta love you actually, and I want to know if I do have a chance with you and your adorable curls.”  
I absentmindedly wrapped a dark curl around my finger, “You have a chance,” I whisper, “I kind of love you too.”  
A small smile tugs on his lips, “Great,” his smile grows, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”  
The moment the bell jingles, signalling that he’s walked out of the cafe, I do a small happy dance, victory is mine.


End file.
